The Moon Master's Training
Phase I The First Steps "I can not believe I'm doing this." Kibou Injiki, 19-year-old son of the Injiki family, was moving through a mountainous region on foot. Starting from the city of Yūrei, he had already made a considerable distance. He had been continuous and relentless in his journey, which proved to be a rather irksome and obstacle-filled one as well. Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have bothered to make this trip alone and would have someone like Midoriko with him. He wouldn't have come if he didn't have the important goal that he had within his mind. Ever since Miharu defeated Takahashi, Kibō had felt that he had been robbed of his revenge. Sure, everyone hated his guts, but he was the one who and indirectly killed his mother and personally murdered his father. His attempt at revenge had failed miserably, with him being struck down early on in the fight. Miharu proved to be the showstopper that day, easily besting Takahashi before letting the Gotei 13 finish him off. This, as well as her attitude as of late, grew a resentment of the Kurosaki girl within heart. To him, she was proving nothing more than a child with a toy. Miharu's dominance over him also made his uselessness and mortality ever so clearer. Whereas he failed, she had succeeded. If it wasn't for her, his parents would still be dead and buried in the ground. He had only her to thank for his fortune... and he hated it. What good would he be in the time that he needed to protect his family and friends himself? Was it his duty to be stuck where he was, hiding behind another as they killed the ones that threatened their lives? Would he be weak and pathetic forever? He refused to be! Shaking his head of his thoughts, he continued his trek through the mountains, briskly jogging in occasions in order to keep his blood flowing. Currently, he was searching for a man named Hanzei Kurosaki, a wanderer who spent his time in the mountains. He was supposed to be a powerful member of the Kurosaki family by reports that he heard, but of course reports wouldn't be enough evidence to prove that. He had to see for himself if the claims were true.... "AHHHHHHHHHH!" A loud, piercing scream was then heard, as Kibō looked off to the edge of the cliff he stood on, and immediately froze, seeing a man falling from the top of the mountain, leaving a trail of blood as he fell. "You're not from around here, eh boy?" came an immediate voice from behind the young man. "Fu--!!!" Had he not seen the body falling, Kibou would have been more relaxed in his reaction towards the source of the sudden voice that was behind him. He would have even deduced the man falling because of a failure to keep a firm grip and stand on the mountainside. But of course, the blood trail meant that he had been killed, the injuries fresh. So upon hearing the masculine voice of the older man behind him, all thoughts of a neutral traveler were erased from his mind. So he turned around with a vicious pivot, drawing his sword out and bringing his arm down the path of a backhand - a reflexive, instinctive move on his part. The man would have his arm held out, using the very back of his fist to block the sword strike with minimal effort. He would shake his head slowly. "Not enough. Judging by the angle of the swing, I can only guess you've been trained under Shinigami in Shinō Academy, correct?" he asked, pushing his fist away only slightly, but even a slight movement such as that was enough to force the blade in the opposite direction, actually pulling on Kibō's arm. "Actually, don't answer that. I'm more curious as to why you're in these mountains, walking about with such a weak deposition for the sword arts." he remarked. "Damn...." Kibou had to stagger back a step when the stranger shoved his blade back, lowering his sword to his side while blinking in surprise for a moment. Apparently, fighters within these parts were clear outsiders of the Gotei 13. But their fighting style was no joke, maybe even more disciplined than that. This man already exuded the aura of a veteran, a master who had seen it all. For the moment, fighting was out of the question here. "Weak, huh.....?" He repeated, a slight frown on his face at the indirect insult. "Then I guess I'm at near the right place. I'm looking for someone that goes by the name of Hanzei Kurosaki." "Looking, are you? Found someone, I daresay you've done." the man professed, during his back to the young boy. "Where did you hear such a name?" The sentence was rather confusing, and sadly, Kibou wasn't one for cryptic-sounding statements. He cocked a slight eyebrow as he balanced his sword on his shoulder. "Blood connections." He said. "My family is close friends with the Kurosaki, and that he was an ancestor of their line....supposedly." He was almost tempted to roll his eyes at the fact that the family wasn't even sure of their own bloodline anymore. The man narrowed his eyes, and turned his back, his large white cloak fluttering in the wind. "If you are looking for Kurosaki Hanzei, go home. He doesn't bother fighting fools." he remarked, taking his initial steps away from Kibō. So this first guy he met here had to be a dick. Of course, Kibou wasn't going to just stand and take it. He narrowed his eyes, scowl becoming even more distinct as he glared into the back of the slowly retreating figure. He lowered his sword again swiftly - one that could have been assumed to be a threatening motion, but really was a reaction to the statement. "Yeah?" He remarked, an annoyed but defiant tone in his voice. "Well, I didn't come up here all this way for your opinion, pal. I'd rather hear it from Hanzei himself." The man continued to walk away, as if not caring much to what Kibō was saying, but decided to offer him a response. "You did just hear it from Hanzei himself, idiot. Don't tell me you came here looking for someone without having the slightest clue what they looked like, did you?" "Well, it didn't exactly help that you were referring to yourself in third person...." Kibou thought to himself bitterly. The insult bristled at him like an aggravating pine. But he chose to shake it off, and because the man was walking away, had no choice but to follow him. "Times change and so do appearances, so pictures are pretty much pointless...." He stated, not bothering to hide his skepticism. Although this man was clearly a powerful being, that as well as his words didn't mark him automatically as Hanzei. As he walked briskly, he sheathed his sword, seeing that he didn't need it anymore. "Besides.... so what if you managed to block my sword with your bare hands? You're powerful, but that's not going to convince me that you're not just making that up." Hanzei's eye twitched, annoyed that this... this... what he considered, brat would dare question his statement. It was at this time that he turned to face Kibō, face-to-face. "I see. So you question my honestly, is that right? Well then, how exactly do you want me to show you I am who I say I am?" The brown-haired boy smirked. "Show me an ability that only someone who mastered the Moon-type Zanpakutō can perform. It can be anything small, anything big, but it's got to be the work of someone who knows his stuff." He folded his arms across his chest. Hanzei now narrowed both of his eyes, his annoyance furthering by the boy's request. He would slowly unsheathe his blade, and hold it up toward the sky. It was at that time that several strands of jet-black spiritual energy would rush out from the blade in all directions, encircling both him and the boy. He turned back toward Kibō. "When one has mastered the moon-type Zanpakutō, they can manipulate the signature Getsuga Tenshō however they wish. It is at the level where they may use it for attack, for defense, and even to heal others." he would explain. The Man Known as Hanzei After his explanation, Hanzei would resheathe his blade, the rings of spiritual energy around the pair would dissipate. At the beginning of the display, Kibou's smug expression had vanished into a more concentrating and slightly astonished one. His eyes fell onto the rings that had formed around him. While listening to the man with his ears, his eyes took in the qualities of the rings, his nerves taking in the feel of their aura. Despite it obviously being spiritual energy, it had a much more different feel to it, almost as if it was a completely different kind of power all together. As his eyes peered at the rings, he saw that each of them were complete in shape. There was no wisp, no flame-like warping effect that graced their surfaces and edges. It was so.... perfect..... That's when he understood. This man truly was Hanzei Kurosaki. "So I guess you weren't trying to put up a tough aura after all....." He muttered, taking in a deep breath. Deciding to give humility a try now that he knew he was wrong, he gave a deep bow in order to indicate his expression of respect. "Please forgive me, sir, for my disrespect and skepticism. I came here to request your tutelage." Hanzei's facial expression turned from annoyance to one of confusion. "My tutelage? My last student was of a family that was loosely tied into the Kurosaki Sōzōshin bloodline. And even then, my name is only known amongst the Kurosaki families." he stopped for a moment, and narrowed his eyes once more, his pupils focused heavily on Kibō's shoulder and stomach area, where the exothermal presence of spiritual energy is most abundant. "Judging from the flow of reiryoku I feel from you, you're not a Kurosaki. Granted... you do have suble traces of Kurosaki spiritual power inside you, but no more obtained via extended periods of being near full-blooded Kurosaki. So then... why exactly did you find me? And why me?" he would ask. This prompted Kibō to take a deep breath, and he mentally hoped the truth would not brand him when he spoke his next words. He rose his head up to look Hanzei in the eyes. "It could've been anyone else." He admitted. "But my family, the Injiki, hold a close connection to the bloodline of the Kurosaki, a bond, if you will. At times, it was faint, while at others, it was a neverending ocean that could never be ignored. I don't know whether we were part of the Kurosaki family, or that both sides simply stuck together before my time, or maybe it's another case of fate pulling the strings.... but I do know the strings of that bond exists, and they were pulling at me. I followed them, and...." He emphasized with a gesturing motion towards Hanzei. "Here you are, right at one's end. Out of all the people, the connection led me to you." Hanzei scratched his head, "You sound like a bad teenage drama script. Like that movie in the World of the Living about... vampires or something, I don't know." he would muse, turning his back as he began walking up the path to the top of the mountain. "If you are truly serious about being taught by me, there is no turning back. You will make the decision where you stand. You walk up this path, and you will be my student, and not leave until your training is complete. If you have even a single ounce of doubt or hesitation, then go back where you came from. Because I have no time to teach a baby how to breathe. The choice is yours, my young friend." he remarked, continuing the walk up the mountain path. "No doubt...." "No hesitation...." "No fear...." Kibou hadn't come up here all this way just to be scared now. He had willingly pushed himself to travel to such lengths just to come to where he stood to train under Hanzei. It wouldn't be easy, he understood this. But that was fine with him. He had nothing to lose, as far as he was concerned. He would not leave until his training was complete, and he would resist the annoying thing that was his more passionate feelings for the time that would pass. So, after passing a deadpan look of comical annoyance at Hanzei's back for his earlier comment, the brown-haired boy did not hesitate to follow Hanzei right up the path. As the pair reached the top of the inclined path, they arrived to an area that would sport grass patches scattered all around, to compliment the rough rocky surface of the mountaintop they were at. A ways off, a small house-like structure could be seen. Hanzei looked toward Kibō. "Get your rest. Tomorrow morning, when the sun rises, that is when your training will begin." he remarked, as he walked off toward the household structure. "I recommend sleeping in the grassy patch areas. When it gets cold at night, they serve as makeshift heating futons." he explained, stepping inside of the household structure, closing the door as he did, leaving Kibō to himself, the sun's bright yellow light beginning to dimmer into a soft mellow orange. "....you've got to be kidding me." When Hanzei disappeared, Kibou could only stare at the grass patches in disbelief, arms folded across his chest. Didn't grass normally get dewy over the night? If anything, it would be logical to-- He stopped himself right then and there, slapping his palm to his face. "You know what? Screw logic." He sniffed. "Seeing a guy cut in half and completely heal himself as if nothing happened disregarded whatever belief I had in it. I'm better off going with the flow." Throwing his self-caution to the wind, he walked over to one of the patches and plopped himself on it, folding his hands behind his head and shifting one leg over the other. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in order to prepare himself for drifting off. If he was wrong and ended up getting wet, oh well. What would be wrong with a little dew on his back? Nothing. Only the prissy type of girl worried about that, and he definitely wasn't it. Besides, he didn't doubt his teacher one bit, considering who he was and all.... Thanks to the natural sounds around him, he was able to fall asleep within a matter of minutes. The Training: Stage One Beginning The absolute night sky above the mountaintop was soon pierced with a small shimmering ray of orange sunlight, creeping over the horizon. Even with this peaceful setting... CRASH! The ground shook, once, and then twice, and then thrice. It was Hanzei, a small distance from where Kibō was sleeping, setting massive rocks, not in size but in sheer weight, side-by-side, the ground shaking with each rock being set down. "The fu--!!!" Of course, Kibou was not going to sleep with such noise. Immediately, he sprung up to his face, his eyes widened and his heart beating rapidly. He jerked his gaze around, initially blind to the source of the noise. However, once his senses managed to clear up and his mind woke up completely, he blinked and rested his gaze on the sight of Hanzei placing the massive rocks onto the ground. However, he could barely find it in him to stand still - the ground was shaking with every rock, for crying out loud! As best as he could, he made steps towards Hanzei, but remained silent until he was finished. With the loud noise going on, it would have been pointless to say anything. Hanzei looked to the left of him, noticing the awoken Kibō. "Ah, good morning sleepy-head. I told you day-break, didn't I?" he began, as he walked behind the large rocks, lined up together in a square planar formation, picking up lengths of rope. He would walk toward Kibō, and without uttering a word or commend, began to tie the lengths of rope around the boy's two wrists, and then his ankles, tightly as he did. He pulled on the rope, forcing Kibō to, willingly or unwillingly, follow Hanzei's steps. He'd continue by tying the ends of those ropes to each of the four individual rocks, one rock for each limb. Hanzei soon finished, and faced Kibō again. "You'll do some warm-ups first. You'll run down to the base of the mountain, do fifty laps around said base, and then run back. If you can not do this before noon, you can forget being trained by me." he stated. "In addition, I should let you know... Each of these rocks, while they don't look it, pack a mass of at least ninety thousand kilograms. Good luck." he spoke. "Oh, just a bunch of fucking horse-shi-- AUGH!!!" Judging by his reaction it all, Kibou was not pleased with the sudden change of circumstance. It should have been in the corner of his head that this was going to happen. However, he just had to be stupid enough to push it aside and ignore it. From the time, he estimated that he had four to seven hours before it would be noon, and he wasn't exactly sure how much time he exactly had. A toothy scowl on his face and a scathing look in his eyes as he glared at the rocks showed just how much he knew he was going to be in for. "Just so we're clear...." He managed to get out, switching his narrowed-eye gaze over to Hanzei. "The only limits I have.... are these....boulders.... right?" "Provided that you are able to finish before noon, this is only the beginning. Provided that you are unable to finish before noon, the limits you'll be dealt with are the severities of remaining a scrawny weakling for the remainder of your life, forever torn inside between what you are, what you crave, and who you care for. But don't let that stop you. This is only a warm-up, after all." he explained, sitting on a rock formation in one of the grassy patches, crossing his legs. "....who the....fuck....are you....then...." Following that rather illogical and somewhat comical statement, Kibou decided to focus all of his energy on carrying the physical burdens on his body. Letting out a strained grunt and gritting his teeth, he pulled on his restraints, hugging his arms to his chest as he pulled. Fortunately, the rocks didn't stand still against it. Slowly but surely, they were being dragged across the ground towards the edge. This clearly showed that he was far from average strength already, but clearly was still a far cry from the power of Hanzei (who could've probably carried them like paperweights). In time, he would get a little faster in dragging the superweight boulders around the base of the mountain. He could probably even say that he would make the time limit if he didn't stop. But one thing was for sure; he would be feeling every bit of it once he finished. And that would be the suckiest part of the "warm-up". Hanzei, while sitting, pulled out his jug of sake and began to drink it down. "Ahh... nothing like sake on a warm morning." he remarked, as he watched Kibō slowly but surely make his way to the path down the mountain. "Once his strength has improved some... Perhaps even near my own, then he'll be ready to develop the god-like speed necessary for the Zen'nōken Miōzora style..." came to his thoughts, standing up as he walked over to the mountain's edge. "I!!! HATE!!! ROCKS!!!!" His ears were met with a ranting scream, courtesy of Kibo as he began to pull himself forward, stomping furiously and continuously pulling the four boulders. Already, he could feel his muscles stretching in agony as they bore the weight, and it felt like every bone in his body was on the verge of snapping. The pain was incredible - it was surprising to him that he hadn't passed out yet. He had to fight against his own begging body as well as the rocks as he struggled against them, a furious look in his eyes. The overall look of him was similar to a chained animal eager to escape and rip the head off an abusive owner. His mind was swirling viciously with thoughts as he continued to drag the rocks around the mountainside. One moment, he saw himself being struck in the face by Miharu.... then, he could see himself helplessly observing as she fought and easily defeated Takahashi, while he had been struck down like the fledgling he had been. Then, he watched as his mother was slain while he and his father had been helpless to stop him. It went forward, back to when he first saw Ahatake carry his father's carcass to show him of his own demise. He clenched his hands until they bled, anger filling him. He wasn't going to stop until he came back with the ability to prove himself. He wasn't going to live in that dwindling ditz's shadow forever. The next time his family's lives were in danger, he wouldn't have to watch them as they died. These were the things that kept him going and pushed him to ignore his own personal pain - and maybe, just maybe even accepting it as if it was a necessary part of him. Hanzei watched with a sense of curiousity, wondering just what caused Kibō, who seems to be a very difficult person to work with, to follow orders like a dog. Hours would pass, the sun looming overhead to show that noon was soon approaching. Hanzei would be sipping his sake, as if there wasn't a care in the world for him. It would be his final steps, after he finally completed his fifth lap. It was a wonder that he had been still able to count. His body felt like it was tearing apart, and the pain was numbing everything. He might as well have been unconscious on his feet, his body carrying out the orders. Taking in deep, haggard breaths, he pulled and started to make his way back up. "GGGH!!!" He gritted his teeth as he was forced to fall on his hands and knees due to the upward slope. But he did not allow himself to stop, slamming his hands onto the ground and digging his feet in. With each lunge and each jerk, he could be heard emitting snarls and growls in an unconscious and seemingly animalistic manner. His eyes were narrowed to slits as he fought against gravity and the superweights. If anything, he looked like an angry pit bull violently struggling against its chains in order to kill something. He never stopped climbing, even as dirt covered his clothing and dust sprayed across his face. That was what allowed him to make it back up the mountain-top with barely enough time to spare. And with that... THUD! He collapsed onto his stomach, breathing hard and having his eyes closed. "There...." He gasped, the bitter tone in his voice as he fought for air and rejuvenation. "I....completed your warm-up.... what the fuck.... is next....?!" Strength and Endurance Hanzei stood back up lazily, shaking off the effects of the jug of sake he just flooded down his throat. He grabbed another length of rope, and tied it around the branch of a tree branch. He then walked over to the boy, and sliced off the ropes around his legs and arms. About a moment or so later, Kibō found himself dangling upside-down, his legs tied together due to the length of rope tied to the tree branch. "Now then. Time for more of that training you love." he began, tying those same rocks via rope to both of his arms. "Alright, give me two thousand pull-ups! In a single hour." he demanded. "....I swear to god, I'm going to kick your ass so hard once I'm done with this." There was a brief relaxation period between the time the ropes were cut and when they had been tied again. That had given Kibou enough time to hold his breath before exhaling it - a technique which allowed his body to absorb oxygen at a faster and stable rate and relieve its exhaustion somewhat However, his body was still helpless enough for Hanzei to have dragged him all the way towards the tree without much resistance. So now, here he was, still exhausted and still having those cursed rocks on him. He wouldn't care as much if Hanzei didn't seem to be giving off the impression that he was not only trying to make the boy stronger with these hell-born training methods.... but also out of simply watching him squirm! Oh, well. He could laugh all he wanted. Kibou had business to do. Taking in a deep breath just for good measure, Kibou shut his eyes, clenched his teeth, and pulled. It felt like he had already split himself in two. His spine lit with an agonizing blaze, and every organ within his torso seemed to crunch together. He let out a pained yell as he forced himself up, then dropped down, then back up, and then back down again in a repeated manner. "Are you...." He barely could find the energy to speak. "Sure this.... tree won't.... break before....I do?!!" "That's another thing. While doing your pull-ups, I'll expect you to release a steady amount of spiritual energy through your feet, and direct them to the tree branch, toward the trunk, and rooted into the ground. This training is not only to enhance strength, but to help you maintain spirit energy control even in a dangerous situation. Because you see, if the tree branch breaks, I'm going to throw you off the mountain-top." he warned. "I FUCKING HATE YOU." Following this praising statement, Kibō stopped himself and took in another deep breath once again, before focusing his energy. It wasn't hard for him to do so, already having been through something similar with his parents' training. However, he guaranteed that neither of them had carried rocks that individually weighed as much as a whale. This allowed for him to maintain a connection with the tree, just as Hanzei allowed him to be. But maintaining it would be the problem. Once again, he started his agonizing pull-ups, grunting loudly every time he did one. His body shuddered under the intense pain, just having got over the suicide run he had done. Spiritual energy flared dangerously from the tree, although it only seemed to leak out of it rather than destroy it completely. Bits and pieces of bark proved to be a bit of a hazard, flying out at random intervals with the near-speed of a bullet. But the foundation of the tree was maintaining its hold at the moment. Hanzei crossed his arms as he nodded, watching Kibō intently. "That's it. Lift it up and down. Center the spread of spiritual energy. Think of an arc, from your feet, tunneling through the branch, to the trunk into the ground; like a parabola." he explained, sitting down with his legs crossed. "A parabola....yeah...." This time, Kibō allowed his mind to slowly take control of his spiritual energy instead of just his body. He thought about Hanzei's analogy, the rippling pain forcing him to narrow his thoughts down to that one. He visualized the connection in his head, his movements strained but seemingly automatic. All he could think about was that one picture in his head, the feeling of his energy as it tried to focus itself into that very arc..... Slowly but surely, the bark stopped flying, and all that was moving was Kibou's body as it continued to exercise the push-ups. Hanzei continued watching, counting the pull-ups as they reached the thousands, soon one thousand a five hundred, another hundred, and so on and so forth. "That's it... Good work. Keep it up, you're almost there." It was here that Kibō was beginning to experience.... a strange feeling. As he continued to pull himself up and then back down, he began to feel a sense of familiarity. The exhaustion, the pain, and the stress all seemed to merge together as one. They were still there, but it didn't seem to be as bad as when he first started. It was as if he, on a subconscious level, was gradually accepting the consequences of his pain. He no longer grunted every single time he did a pull-up, but was performing them with sharp breaths alone. Was this supposed to be an effect of the training? The Training: Stage Two Zen'nōken Miōzora-ryū And so was the training. After that day, each morning and night was that sort of training. Kibō would run around the base of the mountain with those huge rocks, the weight of those rocks increasing with each day, but so did Kibō's tolerance and speed while carrying them. It got to the point of Hanzei having Kibō carry additional boulders on his back, and hung around his neck while doing his laps around the mountain. Pull-ups commenced, one noon after the next. After the second day, Kibō began lifting two rocks via a single rope in each hand. In the afternoons, Kibō would pull Hanzei from a wooden cart, running up and down the mountain, into town, and back again, until nightfall. While wearing small compressed heavy rocks tied around his thighs, legs, arms, and wrists. The hellish training continued, again and again, as if it'd be without stop. From there, two weeks passed from the start of the training... Hanzei stood in front of the young man, who seemed to have bulked up a small amount since they started, but this was nothing but show. The strength that the boy attained in those two short weeks could be said to overwhelm anyone, and even hold back Hanzei. The sleeves of his wardrobe had torn off at some point during the training, and his remaining torso was filled with his sweat and blood, and also sported a tear or two. Hanzei picked up one of the boulders used in his training, "One finger thrust! Now!" he yelled, throwing the huge rock at Kibō with great speed. Over the two weeks that had passed, the effects on the Injiki had not been to just a physical effect. BOOM! As he thrust his finger out with immense speed and shattered it with only a precision and accuracy Hanzei was known for teaching, he was actually feeling more adrenaline than pain, more strength than weakness. At first, he had been groaning, grunting and snarling like a dog as he was forced through the non-stop training, enduring events that would have possibly broken anyone else. But over time, the situations of the mind seperating from the body continued under the stress, forcing him back into an almost surreal state. By the time these seperation events started to cease occurance, it was as if the agony and stress had become a part of him, fueling his body instead of damaging it. He was not being broken. He was accepting the source of his torture. As he smashed through the rock, there was a clear grin on his face, part of his fangs glinting in the natural light. Hanzei couldn't help but revel a small smirk. A master is always proud whenever his student overcomes a torture and becomes stronger for it. But it was far from over. Hanzei slowly drew his blade. "Ready? Parry!" he demanded, coming at Kibō with his signature speed, swinging his blade down hard at Kibō. If it were anyone else, Hanzei's movements would have made it look like they were standing still. But for Kibou, he could react accordingly. His reflexes kicked in, his body's movements acting with a speed that one would've thought to be impossible in the face of such speed. With one of his hands, he grabbed the hilt of his sword and drew it, twisting it in his hands with an iaido style move. His movements blended into one another, nothing wasted. Hanzei had only allowed him to build in strength, but in the few times that they actually clashed against each other, that inherited intellect allowed him to adjust his own fighting style to fit. Of course, this was only due to the fact that Hanzei had not moved to the phase of swordsmanship yet.... Or maybe he was.... Kibou could already tell his teacher just loved to screw with him at the worst times. But he didn't mind. CLANG! Kibou's blade diverted Hanzei's upwards in a parrying blow. The brown-haired boy didn't allow himself to swing too wide, for that would've left a hole in his defense. Instead, upon the climax point of the collision, he twisted and brought his sword down to a comfortable defensive position. Hanzei smiled, and for the first time during their training, it was not of sarcasm or delight in torturing the boy, but of approval. "You've gotten better, Kibō." he remarked, stepping back from Kibō. "Now it's time to move on. You are ready to begin learning the Zen'nōken Miōzora-ryū." he stated. "All this for a sword technique, huh?" His voice dry, Kibou cocked a slight eyebrow and frowned a little. That frown was subverted by a small smirk. "Who are you, the son of the Soul King?" This was meant to be a joke... but if this man, powerful as he was, turned out to somehow make that joke true.... he honestly couldn't imagine him being surprised. He might be, but.... "You must be mistaken. Zen'nōken Miōzora-ryū is not a sword technique. It is a sword style, that I had invented during my training alongside a good friend of mine... who happened to be Kawahiru Seireitou's sensei, and subsequently, the sensei of the man who trained Kurosaki Ahatake and Kurosaki Miharu. So, in other words, to land me as a sensei, you hit the jackpot." he mused, nodding and chuckling to himself. "....what. You want a sign of my eternal gratitude or something? You want a hug?" Kibō's sarcastic statement was followed by the humorous raise and outstretch of the arms, with his sword still in one hand. However, he immediately dropped them to his side a second after he raised them. "Well, too bad, so sad. Cry, baby." Though the words by themselves were those of a jerk, his tone would've made just about anyone at least chuckle a little. Hanzei would narrow his eyes as he held his sword in his hand. Not even a moment passed. A second even. It was all too quick, as if it was a flash of light, appearing and then disappearing. Hanzei appeared on Kibō's opposite side, sheathing the blade. The motion was too quick, even for Kibō's senses. All the latter saw was Hanzei in a dashing position, with an aura surrounding his person, along with eight... or nine... however many strands of spiritual energy extending from this aura. Maybe it was seven. More... Less... It was much too quick to account for an accurate description. A small strand of blood began to leak from his revealed chest, along with two cuts on his sleeves, both on the cuff and on the shoulder, along with a small cut on his obi and two small cuts on each of his pants. Kibō could even feel a very small strand of blood spill from the center of his forehead. Hanzei turned to the boy. "This is the Zen'nōken Miōzora-ryū's technique, Kyūryūōda." he explained, re-drawing the blade and rested its blunt side on his shoulder, bearing a soft smile. "And I'm proud to say I'm the best at this technique." The response that Kibō could naturally come up with? Silence. Whatever words that were about to come from his mouth were silenced upon the start and completion of the mood. His body had froze stock-still at that moment upon feeling the blood trickle from his cuts. His face had gone into its own state of fridge horror, pupils shrunken and his mouth unable to free its muscles from their tense, catatonic state. The only movement he could make was the turning of his head so that he could look over his shoulder at Hanzei. His mind had been shut down to two thoughts: "Just how many moves could you have made.... without me knowing....?" "Just how many pieces could you have cut me up into.... if you were aiming to KILL me?" Hanzei narrowed his eyes once more, holding the blade up as he stared at the hand that was gripping the handle. "There was a reason why the beginning of the training was meant to increase body strength. Zen'nōken Miōzora-ryū is a style that relies in turning one's entire spiritual energy into a means of speed. Far more than even the Shinigami technique, Flash Step, or the Kidō technique Shunkō. Zen'nōken Miōzora-ryū offers its user a god-like speed, that can be surpassed by no-one. The problem is, it doesn't increase strength, so even by being able to harness the god-like speed of the Zen'nōken Miōzora-ryū, it'd be rather useless without the strength to back up its attacks." Hanzei then pointed the blade's tip at Kibō. "The attack I just used was Kyūryūōda. It is an attack that uses the god-like speed of the Zen'nōken Miōzora-ryū to its full potential, and allows the attacker to strike all nine fundamental spots of Kendō." "Karatake." gesturing to Kibō's forehead. "Kisagiri." gesturing to Kibō's left shoulder. "Sakageisa." gesturing to Kibō's right shoulder. "Hidarinagi." gesturing to Kibō's left side. "Miginagi." gesturing to Kibō's right side. "Hidarikariyaga." gesturing to Kibō's left thigh area. "Migikariyaga." gesturing to Kibō's right thigh area. "Sakakaze." gesturing to Kibō's center, below the waist. "And Tsuki." gesturing to Kibō's chest. "In all styles of Zanjutsu, the target will always be one of these nine, no matter the style. However, the god-like speed of Zen'nōken Miōzora-ryū allows one to strike all nine spots simultaneously. In other words, it's unblockable." he finished. "....that sounds like a rather convienient style to use against opponents...." Kibō said skeptically, frowning a little as he balanced his blade onto his shoulder. His free hand was in his pocket. "There happen to be any catch besides the fact that you can't be a scrawny weakling?" Hanzei held his blade out, pointed toward Kibō's direction. "The god-like speed of Zen'nōken Miōzora-ryū is not something anyone can just magically obtain. Normally, it requires years upon years of solitary training. But, we're going to take a short-cut that I devised. Using your Zanpakutō spirit." he explained. This made Kibō furrow his eyebrows a bit more, and he pondered Hanzei's words. To be honest, he didn't like the sound of that message. Was this going to be some sort of mind rape, some sort of test in where the only way he could be released was by enlightenment? He hoped not; the last thing he wanted to happen was a complete skull-screwing just when he got so far. "Oh, boy, this always looks much easier on TV...." He thought to himself, breathing in and letting out a sigh. "What do I need to do?" He asked casually. A Reason "Hold on, kid. Let me ask you..." he began, sitting down on a nearby rock formation. "Tell me. Why do you want to become stronger? Just what is it you want to do? What do you plan to do with the power you'll obtain from me?" he asked plainly. "Great. Somewhere, this just had to come across the line...." Kibō didn't bother to hide his scowl, eyes narrowed slightly at Hanzei as he spoke the question. "What....?" He asked, a tone that could be mistaken for coldness gracing his voice. "If my reason is too bad, too worthless, or otherwise not your style, I get thrown off the mountain...right?" He huffed, a brief curling of his upper lip in the moment that he did so. He lowered his sword again, taking a few steps forward so that he could be within talking distance of Hanzei. "Fine. I guess I can pull on the bone for a moment longer...." He paused to take in a deep breath. "I want to show my family as well as myself that I'm not a worthless sleeze that watches as they get fucked over and die. I want to prove I'm capable of not only killing my enemy, but protecting the ones I value the most. And if you want to add a little layman's terms on that...." With a emphasizing wave of his free hand, he sheathed his blade with the other. "I want to fight, I want to kill, and I want to win." Hanzei would only close his eyes at what he heard, crossing his arms. "I can understand that reason. I can understand the desire... to prove to others that you're not worthless. That you have the strength to command. To protect. And... to win. But understand this, Kibō." he started, standing up as he opened his eyes, his arms resting to his side. "The path you speak of is the path of murder. Of a manslayer. Surely, you believe that it is a path worth going down... to prove your worth. But murder doesn't choose sides, Kibō. When one allows themselves to become a manslayer, there is no such thing as loyalty. You'll slaughter legions so that a few may live. And soon after, even those few will end up dead... by your hand! The world you ardently desire to enter will not know what to do with you. It will deceive you into believing that you are saving lives even as you destroy them. You will accept these lies all the while, your hands will be stained with the worst of offenses." he continued. "If you continue your training with this mind-set, you'll become a killer. And as your master, it will be me who will take your life." he added, with a tone of seriousness that would chill a thousand suns, and strike fear into even the most fearless of warriors. And Kibō, with all of his rebellious demeanor backing him up, was certainly not the dominatrix of fearlessness. He almost took a step back out of instict, and he was barely able to keep the fear from crossing his face. A vicious and sudden chill went through his body, starting from the shoulders and jutting down to the soles of his feet. For a brief interlude, he thought Hanzei was going to strike him down in cold blood. His teeth gritted, and his eyebrows furrowed as he took in the stature of the man in front of him, the malevolence placed at the very end of his tone. Then... his rebellious defenses kicked in. "Don't patronize me!!!" Was his angered cry, his lip curling to reveal an angry snarl and his eyes narrowing. "Talking as if you were sort of saint!! You carry a sword, you obviously know how to fight with it!! You have the gall to call my mindset that of a fucking killer, but let's face it, we're both wielding weapons capable of taking people's lives!! You, the Seireitei, the Hollows.... what difference does it make?!! In a battle, someone dies!! Someone kills!! Someone's always going to be considered a murderer at the end of the day!! So how, how pray tell, HOW do you expect me to wield a sword without killing, HUH?!" Hanzei couldn't help but snicker a bit. "It's surprising how such a young boy... understands the world beyond a naive point of view." he remarked. "What you speak is the truth. A sword is a weapon. And the art of Zanjutsu is learning how to kill. That is the truth. Any ornamental words used to glorify it can only be spoken by someone who's hands have never been stained with the blood of men." he agreed, walking over to the edge of the cliff, staring out at the sky. "But will you continue the cycle? What will you prove to your family? That you can kill? And you will teach your student or offspring of the art of killing. And so on will the chain of killing continue. Or you could be the first of a long line... to use the katsujinken style. It is a principle that literally means "a sword that can give life". It's up to you, Kibō. But a sword that only knows how to kill is a sword that will rust." he finished. That immediately caused Kibou's narrowed eyes to widen, his entire demeanor dropping and being replaced with surprise. They furrowed, and he looked away for a moment in thought. "A sword.... that can ''give life....?"'' He thought to himself. It sounded.... rather surreal, to his ears. What kind of blade could ever hope to give life? What kind of weapon could ever hope to bring back the lives it took? What kind of tool could reverse its own properties? He let these questions stir in his head like a stew, resulting in a short, but considerable moment of silence. He closed his eyes, his bangs shadowing them as he pondered this new string of information. "Breaking the cycle, huh....?" He muttered, smiling weakly. "If it means that.... then, I don't mind settling for the unorthodox." Hanzei smiled as well, his eyes closed as he nodded. "Alright. Well, then let's start. Enter Jinzen, the meditative position." he requested, as he sat back down on the rock formation. Noting that things were back on track, Kibo did not see any reason to object. Drawing his sword, he twirled it around for a moment before stabbing it into the ground in front of him. Then, he sat down Indian-style, placed his hands onto his knees, and closed his eyes. He allowed his mind to sink from the physical world and into his own spiritual world, where he would stand in his mindscape. He hoped that there wouldn't be too much trouble on the road ahead.... The Inner World Kibō stood in his inner world, but there was only solitude. Until... a soft voice rung in the boy's ears. "Hello." was simply stated, by a long-haired gentlemen a ways off from where Kibō was. He wore tattered robes, and had a face similar to that of Kibō, but his hair was far longer, and raven-colored. Immediately, Kibō's eyes widened at the sound of the unfamiliar voice. "That's not Kaiketsu....!" He furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, turning slowly to face the man with a skeptical, questioning look on his face. Although his stance was relaxed, his senses were on the alert for any possible threat that would ambush him otherwise. He knew that all Hanzei had done was put him through the rigorous physical training as well as only show him the sword style first-hand. So who exactly was this, standing before him so naturally. "What's up?" He replied in a slightly sarcastic manner, a small smirk made out of his mouth. The mysterious man stood his ground with a rather serious, yet whimsical, look on his face. "Is that all you wish to ask? Or did you come here for a purpose, Kibō?" he asked. "'Course it wasn't all I wanted to ask...." Kibō frowned a little, furrowing his eyebrows. "I came here under the teachings of a sword capable of breaking the cycle of violence one goes through in the face of battle. I came here to find a way to show my worth and the true extent of my strength... but in a way that would break the damned dance of death. That's all I can really say; I never was good with words...." His gaze converted to a more suspicious look. "But who in the hell are you? Where's Kaiketsu?" "My name... is Mokūroku. Regarding Kaiketsu... After you had realized that you didn't need to rely on obtaining the power to kill to truly become strong, the war that was raging inside your soul between Kaiketsu and your inner desires and faults had ended. And from that, I was born." he began, as he bowed his head. "I am Kaiketsu. I am you. I represent your true desires. I am your Zanpakutō, Master Kibō. My name is Mokuroku." he explained. The brown-haired male contemplated this for a moment, his eyes looking over his "new" Zanpakuto's form. For that moment, he did not speak. Then, he smiled a little. "Well, if that's so... then firstly, you can stop calling me "Master". It's really more of a partnership, if anything else. Secondly...." The smirk faded from his face again. "I suppose this is one of those things in where I have to start completely from the beginning, isn't it?" His last sentence was somewhat resentful, making it clear that he disliked that particular idea. But it was a minor grievance; he had plenty of time.... Mokūroku drew the blade that was in his sheath, but there was something strange about it. The blade... was on the opposite side. "Surprised? You'd be correct in assuming that this is not a standard japanese katana. It is a sakabatō, or rather a reverse-bladed sword." he explained, pointing the tip at Kibō. "Bear his Burden, Mokūroku." he stated. The blade remained unchanged in shape, but emitted a bright pale blue light. "Do you see the light? The light emitted from the blade is the essence of the user's soul. My soul. And... your soul. That is my power. Your power. To manipulate our very soul for the purpose of protecting others." he explained. To this, Kibō remained silent, inspecting the newfound weapon closely. It was a surprisingly easy thing to do - turn the blade over to your side, expose the blunt end to the enemy, and his target's chances of death would be reduced significantly. In the basis of melee combat, this would be quite a simple task. Yet, such explanations left the implication that there was more to be let known. The brown-haired boy folded his arms across his chest at that note, waiting for Mokūroku to speak again. Mokūroku narrowed his eyes a bit. "Are you just going to stand there? Come and attack! After all, don't you have people waiting for you to protect them?!" he started, knowing exactly how to get his master to fight. He was, after all, born from Kibō's soul. The sudden change of tone surprised Kibō.... before he narrowed his eyes and let out a low growl of annoyance. "For a Zanpakutō with Socrates for a mind..." He expressed that very same annoyance in his words, for there was really no use hiding his thoughts against his own Zanpakutō. He slid one of his feet back and kept one foot forward, hand grasping the hilt of his sheathed sword. Then, he bared his teeth and threw himself at Mokūroku, unsheathing his sword in a powerful iaido swing once he was within range. He would follow-up with several sword strikes in order to push his opponent on the defensive, to keep relentless pressure on his target. "....you sure know how to annoy the hell out of me!!!" Category:Bleach: The Children of Izanami Category:Fanfiction Category:Roleplay